


How the hell does Derek Hale relax?

by DearDaisy (Sunsetdaydreams)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1 Fic, Bad Cooking, Breakfast, Cooking, Films, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Music, Running
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25979218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunsetdaydreams/pseuds/DearDaisy
Summary: Five times Stiles tries to get Derek to relax and one time he succeeds.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 10
Kudos: 233
Collections: Sterek Goodness





	How the hell does Derek Hale relax?

Stiles was on a mission. 

He had given himself a quest, a quest to get Derek to relax. 

But in order to do that, he first had to find out how Derek relaxed. What did he do to relax? How did he de-stress and unwind? 

After any fight he always seemed to disappear for a while. And not even Stiles had figured out where he went. 

At first he hadn’t really cared, just pleased to be rid of the overgrown muscle-bound grump. But over time, mainly due to them reluctantly saving each other, Stiles had started to care. Not even he knew when, and now it was bugging him. 

How the hell did Derek Hale relax?

  
  
  


ONE

  
  
  


Stiles was determined to find out how Derek Hale relaxed, or you know, get him to like him and become boyfriends and live happily ever after. He wasn’t fussy which. Luckily for him, the answer to the former had practically fallen into his lap.

He shoved the door to the loft open, narrowly avoiding as it swung back and almost clipped his shoulder. Almost but not quite. High on the victory of avoiding a maiming by door, he grinned broadly at Derek who raised a thoroughly unimpressed eyebrow.

‘Hey, so I got these vouchers for a masseuse, thought you might want one, they’ve got great reviews.’ Stiles said waving the vouchers around enthusiastically. They were for the best masseuse in town and he couldn’t wait.

He’d actually spent his own money on them, or well, someone had. They were technically Jackson’s, seeing as they’d actually fallen out of Jackson’s backpack and he’d been the one to see and pick them up. 

A week ago. 

They still had a few days left but he was looking forward to having someone pummel and soothe his aching back. It would be bliss. Well deserved bliss. Especially after all the stress and injuries he'd accumulated running around with werewolves. 

He deserved this. As did Derek, and who didn’t love someone rubbing their oiled and scented hands all over your body in a purely professional manner? No one. That’s who.

He flinched when Derek growled and extended a claw, plucking the vouchers out of his hand and shredding them into tiny confetti pieces.

Stiles stared at them morosely as his dreams of a hot masseuse pummelling him went up in a puff of smoke. A hot masseuse who would make him moan and groan and Derek, overcome with jealousy would threaten to rip the poor person’s throat out with his teeth, and Stiles would heroically save the day by offering up his nubile young body for Derek to have his way with. And he’d find a way to relax Derek that they would both get the utmost enjoyment out of. 

‘Dude, you could have just said no.’ Stiles turned on his heel and left. 

Plan A was a complete and utter bust, in every conceivable way. What was wrong with Derek? Stiles could have invited someone else with him, or you know, gone twice. 

He didn’t have to ruin it for Stiles as well. 

Asshole.

  
  
  


TWO

  
  
  


‘Derek? Derek man, where are you?’

‘Stiles.’ Derek said, suddenly appearing in front of him and frowning down at him. ‘What are you wearing?’

Stiles copied Derek’s movement and frowned down at himself as well. ‘My running clothes?’

‘Why are you wearing running clothes?’

‘Because we’re going running?’

‘We are?’ Derek sounded amused. ‘Since when?’

Stiles had wondered about doing some practice runs, because, well Derek was a werewolf and had a near everlasting stamina. But then, Stiles played lacrosse. Well he turned up to the games and practised lacrosse. It wasn’t his fault Coach never picked him to play. Well, not entirely. And anyway, he had meant to go out for a run, just to see how far he could get, but, well, he wasn’t quite sure what happened to that plan.

‘You sure you can keep up?’ Derek smirked at him.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. Talk about a red rag to a bull. He scoffed. ‘Of course I can! Coach makes us run track all the damn time. It’s you who needs to worry about keeping up.’

  
  


It was not Derek who needed to worry about keeping up. Although Stiles main current worry was being able to get enough oxygen into his body to not die. He didn’t even care that he was sweating profusely and so red in the face he might get a permanent burn from it. His chest was caving in, why would be worried about something so small as embarrassment when he couldn’t get his lungs to expand to allow him to actually breathe?

Nor did he care that Derek was staring at him like he was bug on the floor that needed to be put down ASAP. 

Although he did appreciate the reluctant hand that was extended and was draining his pain. It was taking that sharp edge and the overbearing panic away so that he didn't actually pass out. Not that he had any energy to thank Derek for it, seeing as all of his reserves were going to keep him breathing.

Breathing was good, getting oxygen into his body was paramount, why the hell weren’t his lungs working?

  
  


And if Derek ended up getting his work out by carrying Stiles home, well then, nobody but Derek and Stiles would ever know that. Apart from the couple that saw them emerging from the preserve and offered to call an ambulance. And the old lady driving past in her car. And the group of teenagers who luckily Stiles didn’t recognise. And the bus full of people who had passed them. And Isaac who had been hanging out at the loft who thought filming it was of paramount importance and it was imperative he send the video to the whole pack.

Asshole.

  
  
  
  


THREE

  
  
  


‘So I was thinking.’ Stiles began.

‘No.’ Derek replied without turning around, which rude.

‘I thought I’d run it past you before the others.’ Total lie, he’d only just thought it and definitely should have run it past the others so he’d have backup when Derek shot him down. If Derek shot him down, because who didn’t love a vacation?

Derek stared at him, looking as if he was wondering if anyone would mind if he killed him. But Stiles knew him now, he wasn’t going to fall for Derek’s macho man pain. He knew Derek liked him, well, maybe tolerated was a better word, but Stiles was working on it.

‘Vacation!’ He blurted out before his brain had time to come up with a better way of convincing Derek of his plan.

‘No.’

‘Pack bonding! Everyone will love it! We could go to the beach somewhere! Give Erica even more of a reason to show off her body.’

‘No.’

‘Boyd will come if Erica’s there.’

‘I said no.’

‘Jackson loves any excuse to strip off.’ Stiles ignored him. ‘Actually all the werewolves do.’

‘Are you listening to me?’

‘How do I get Lydia there? If she comes, Allison will come and Scott will go wherever Allison is.’

‘And you’re going to get them all killed.’

‘Yeah… wait what?’ Stiles stopped as Derek’s words finally got through to him. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Territories. We have to get permission from the local packs to be there. And be on best behaviour to avoid a dispute or war. You really see Jackson playing nice?’

‘Well, I’m sure we can blackmail him?’ Stiles asked, not at all convinced. He had nothing on Jackson. Otherwise he’d had used it a long time ago. The only ones who might were Lydia or Danny and there was no way they would do it.

‘And you’d be happy camping?’

‘What? Camping? No way! Hotel all the way dude!’ Stiles stared at him in horror. What the hell was so wrong with a lovely hotel with room service that would wait on you hand and foot?

‘You want werewolves to stay in a hotel? A hotel stinking of other people? Their BO and sweat, their perfume, bodily fluids. You do know what people get up to in hotel rooms? And you want to put werewolves through constantly smelling that while attempting to sleep?’ Derek was looking at Stiles as if he was stupid, and yeah, maybe he had a point.

‘Yeah no, maybe not.’ Stiles finally relented with a sigh. Good thing he hadn’t run it past anyone first.

  
  
  


FOUR

  
  
  


Stiles was sure he had it this time. Cooking. Who didn’t love a home cooked meal? He’d spent ages figuring out what to make and decided that he couldn’t go wrong with meat. Although maybe deciding on a three course meal wasn’t his best idea.

So what if his sprout and apple slaw didn’t look anything like the pictures, but was his pan fried venison starter meant to be smoking? He’d followed the recipe perfectly. Except for the ingredients he didn’t have and the ones he’d substituted in. And the venison had looked like it was still moving and was definitely still bleeding when he’d cooked it for the amount of time the recipe had dictated. So he’d left it in the pan for a little longer while he’d started on their main.

He had not expected the pastrami sauce to catch on fire though. How was that even possible? He’d even substituted the red wine for grape juice! So what the hell was on fire?

And now he wasn’t sure what was steak and what was venison. Should he have cooked them in separate pans? Did Derek even have more than one pan?

‘What the hell is going on?’ Derek’s voice yelled suddenly, startling him. Stiles spun around and stared at him. 

‘The internet said the recipe was easy!’ Stiles yelled desperately just as the fire alarm began blaring piercingly.

Derek winced, hunching his shoulders before storming out. Stiles vaguely heard a crash just before the screaming alarm stopped.

Derek returned glowering. ‘Out.’

Stiles spared a quick reluctant glance at his ruined dinner before scrambling for the door. 

His self preservation instincts may be rubbish but they weren’t nonexistent.

  
  
  


FIVE

  
  
  


Stiles had spent ages agonising over his movie selection. Not many men liked chick lits, but he didn’t want to come across as stereotyping. He didn’t really know Derek’s sense of humour but he seemed to be the dry humour kind. So possibly comedy? He’d take one just to be safe, maybe five, or ten.

Now action. Who didn’t love action? But there were so many to choose from, how did he narrow this down? Maybe he should come back to this, he still had sci-fi, fantasy and of course, Marvel and DC to go.

This needed to be split into categories. Unless he could transport all of his movies over. Although he could rule out what they could find on Netflix. And all the Marvel and Star Wars films were on Disney plus. So they could stay here. 

But would Derek go the hassle of searching through the menus to pick? Well if Derek wouldn’t then he would.

And what about horror? The Alien films were classics.

Sports films? Did Derek even like sports? Maybe he’d leave them out, or you know just take one. Who didn’t like The Mighty Ducks or Rocky? How old was Derek anyway? He might have watched them growing up. 

He grabbed The Mighty Ducks DVD and shoved it in. Actually he was more in the mood for some Sylvester Stallone, he quickly exchanged them while going back to his collection. Might as well have some background noise while he figured out what he was going to take over.

Movie night was going to be awesome.

  
  


Stiles snorted as his dad’s voice woke him up. 

‘Hey Kiddo, get up.’

‘Wa? Dad? What are you doing home? Thought you had the night shift?’ Stiles blinked sleepily up at his dad.

His dad nodded. ‘It’s six am son, get yourself into a bed, but you're cleaning this up in the morning.’

Stiles glanced around blearily before he dropped his head back onto the sofa with a thud. 

He’d missed movie night.

  
  
  


PLUS ONE

  
  
  


‘Why are you playing music?’ Derek asked, frowning at him but looking sleep mused and completely and utterly adorable because of it.

‘You should be sleeping.’ Stiles admonished deliberately not saying what he was doing.

‘I was. But some moron decided that listening to music in my loft while a werewolf with advanced hearing was trying to sleep was a good idea.’ Stiles glared at him. ‘I was just setting the mood!’

‘For what?’ Derek crossed his arms which did amazing things for his muscles.

Damn this was what Stiles had wanted to avoid. ‘For dancing!’

‘Dancing?’ Derek stared at him in disbelief. 

To be fair Stiles wasn’t sure if he’d lied or not, not that it really mattered, with his ADHD and fast heart rate werewolves struggled to figure out if he was lying unless they concentrated. Also sixties music was great for dancing.

‘Why are you dancing in my kitchen?’

‘Because it’s got great acoustics?’ Stiles questioned, promptly wincing at how unsure he sounded.

Derek raised an eyebrow.

Stiles deflated. ‘I was going to make you breakfast.’

Derek blinked, his eyebrow going back down and a startled look appearing on his face.

‘I can cook! It was your stupid kitchen! I make breakfast all the time!’

Derek huffed and rolled his eyes. ‘What were you planning on making?’

‘Everything duh! I brought everything for a full fry up.’

‘I have food you know.’

‘You even know what grease is?’

‘It’s the stuff that’s going to be clogging your arteries in ten years time.’

Stiles grinned, stumbling when Derek manhandled him out the way but beamed when Derek reached out and grabbed a frying pan. He surreptitiously turned the music up. Derek hadn’t made any derogatory comments about the music so Stiles would test it. He then grabbed a knife but jumped when it was promptly plucked from his hand.

‘You are not handling any sharp instruments!’

‘Hey!’ Stiles pouted, hoping that he looked at least half as good as all of his friends when they did it.

‘I am not explaining to the Sheriff why his son cut off his own finger trying to slice butter!’

‘Are you scared of my dad?’ Stiles exclaimed happily. ‘Oh my God you are! How did I never know this?’

‘I’m not scared of him, Stiles. I respect him. There’s a difference.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Sure there is.’ Stiles grinned watching Derek’s hands as he cut off a healthy chunk of butter and tossed it into the heating pan and another chunk into a second frying pan that appeared out of nowhere.

Stiles pulled out the sausages, bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, hashbrowns and eggs.

Once the butter in the first pan had melted, Derek got the sausages cooking.

Stiles bit his lip, noticing Derek was ever so slightly swaying his hips in time to the music.

‘What?’ Derek asked, turning to him looking curious.

Shit. Stiles must have been throwing his emotions all over the kitchen. ‘I want to help.’

‘You’ve already proven that you can’t be trusted in the kitchen.’

‘Maybe I just need supervision.’

Derek snorted. ‘Alright, come here.’ He nodded to a drawer that Stiles had never seen used. ‘In there.’

Grinning Stiles sped over and pulled out what he thought was a dishcloth. A rather large dishcloth that turned out to be an apron.

When he shook it out, it turned out to be an apron that had a picture of a sausage on a skewer with the words “Wanna see my sausage?” emblazoned on it.

He held it out for Derek to see, surprised when the werewolf ducked his head showing off pink ear tips.

‘Cora brought it for me.’

‘Cora brought you this?’ Stiles repeated stunned before grinning and quickly donning the item. ‘How do I look?’

Derek smirked at him. ‘I don’t know if your sausage is big enough.’

‘Hey!’ Stiles exclaimed, shocked. ‘My sausage is plenty big enough thank you very much!’ He was about to go on when still grinning, Derek lifted out one of the sausages from the pan, which yeah, so he preferred chipolatas, sue him, they were tastier. ‘Oh yeah laugh it up big guy. Now, where do you want me?’

Derek reaches over, grabbing his arm and tugging him over to the other pan. ‘Think you can handle the scrambled eggs?’

‘Pfft, I am the master of scrambled eggs.’

‘As long as that’s all you scramble.’

Stiles blinked unsure to what he was hinting at. He went to ask but Derek distracted him. By pulling out yet another apron, also sausage themed. This one had a hand pointing down with the words “Wanna see my sausage?”

Stiles felt his brain shut down. When it finally turned back on, Derek was ignoring him, humming along to the music, hips ever so slightly shaking with a more than occasional head bob.

Stiles grinned. Quest completed.

He hip checked Derek and, singing along with him, got started on the eggs.

  
  


They ended up shouting the chorus into the wooden spoon and Stiles almost burning the eggs.

  
  


It was worth it when after they’d eaten, Derek went back to sleep. 

This time on the sofa, with his head on Stiles lap as Stiles carded his fingers through Derek’s hair.

  
  
  
  


Quest completed. 

Not that Stiles would ever stop trying to get Derek Hale to relax. He’d never felt so content or peaceful as he did when he realised that Derek trusted him enough to not only sleep in his presence but to be comfortable enough to sleep with Stiles touching him. 

Best feeling ever.


End file.
